12. The Texas Fix

Leaving Texas in l985 was heartbreaking for me. Gone forever were the What-A-Burgers, Blue Bell Ice Cream, Gill's Fried Chicken, Alberto's Crystal Cafe and fresh Gulf shrimp at 50 cents a pound.

Over the next five years we were able to set up some "emergency" runs to Texas for Blue Bell Ice Cream. These rides were held each Memorial Day, but that's another set of stories altogether. It had been some time since we had been south of the Red River and, needless to say, a major "Texas Fix" was sorely needed.

A friend bought a new Yamaha Venture Royale early in the spring and
was anxious to get in a long break-in trip. What could be better than a ride to Big Bend? We could hike the trail to The Window, go over to the little village of Boquillas, Mexico, rent burros, and ride the famous River road; not on burros, but on our Yamahas! Hell of an idea!

So, Rootin’ Tootin’ Newton and I headed south one bright March afternoon, and rolled into Guthrie, Oklahoma around 10:30 p.m. There we had a quick Dairy Queen supper and checked into the cheapest motel we could find.

Early next morning we headed on into Oklahoma City and turned west. As the day wore on we began enjoying the ride a whole lot less. A blue norther was building up to hit us and it was cold.

Worse, R.T. had broken his brand new microphone boom arm. Naturally we were in the wide open spaces miles from the nearest Yamaha dealer.

We approached Big Spring in midafternoon, found the Yamaha dealer had gone out of business, tried at the Honda shop and learned no repair parts were available. He did tell us of a place in Odessa and, since we were headed there anyway, we figured we'd stop on the way through.

Arriving in Odessa, we noticed a slight warming trend and actually enjoyed being on the road again. This little place was a hole in the wall, but they had exactly the piece R.T. needed. Repairs were effected, we ate, gassed up and headed west once again.

By this time we knew we couldn't make Big Bend today. Best bet was to head a little bit further west to Ft. Davis, camp there and take the scenic route back through the Chinati Mountains next morning.

The state park campground was full. No spaces were available because of the PBMA (Permian Basin Motorcycle Association) Spring Roundup rally at the Prude Ranch. We rode the six miles out to the ranch to see if we could camp with the rally attendees.

As we entered the headquarters area we saw an old friend hard at work. Steve Cox, pinstriper extraordanaire, from Abilene, Texas was working on a pretty, new Gold Wing. We asked him about camping and he told us it was going to be damn cold on this night, but that he and a friend had a cabin with four bunks, and since they were only using two, he offered the remaining bunks to us for a nominal fee.

This was a great bargain, providing us with a warm, dry place to sleep, so we paid him our nominals, headed for the cook shack and ate a late meal. After supper we unloaded the bikes and went in for the night. Good thing too, because that night the temperature got down to 17 degrees!

Next morning we waited till it warmed up before taking off. Had a good breakfast at the cook shack, said goodbye to Steve and backtracked in a southeasterly direction down through Marfa. Got caught up in major road construction and traveled about 20 miles on washboard gravel and hard caliche clay.

We arrived at the Rio Grande Campground in Big Bend around 2:30 that afternoon. After pitching our tents, we headed for the river crossing. Once there we had to wait a little while for the ferry boat to pick us up.

The ferry consisted of a 14 foot row boat with a young muchacho paddlin' like crazy with one oar! We crossed with a young married couple, some college students and an old guy. (Nope! Not me!) Once in Mexico we rented two burros ($4.00 for two hours) and rode up the hill to Boquillas.

The senores gave R.T. the biggest burro in the corral and he could still put both feet down. The burro could actually have walked out from under him when he stood up! He looked like Hoss Cartwright on a Shetland pony. Hey, I got pictures!

We ate at the little cantina, drank real Coca Cola and bought a few trinkets. Paco offered to guard our burros for 25 cents. We met the mayor of Boquillas (a burro!), had a cold Cerveza to toast his health and headed back to the crossing where we waited for our oarsman to portage back upriver so he wouldn't overshoot on the American side. Quite a ride!

Once in camp we ate a bowl of Wolf Brand Chili and what was left we fed to some local turkey vultures. They were experienced moochers and acted like pets. (Judy says Alpo Dog Food, Old El Paso Refried Beans and Wolf Brand Chili all come down the same assembly line together. They just alternate the labels!) Hey, chili ain’t just for breakfast any more, you know!

After supper we headed up to the Ranger station to attend the educational program. Different stars were pointed out and identified. The ranger informed us that nowhere else could the stars be seen with such clarity because of the very low level of ambient light around the Big Bend area. The stars were indeed bright, looking like a display of diamonds on black velvet!

When the program was over we headed back to the tent, checked for scorpions and rattlers and hit the sack. Tomorrow we'll ride the river road from Terlingua to Presidio.

Early next morning we headed for Presidio. I'd wanted to run this road for a long time and now I was on the way. It truly is a spectacular road.

The Mexicans call it "El Camino del Rio” which translates to "The River Road." We rode in to the little pueblo of Study Butte and stopped for breakfast at a little roadside cafe. Pretty decent grub here. After breakfast R.T. headed for "el bano" (the bathroom) while the waitress poured me a second cup of coffee. Being friendly, she said, "He's a handsome young man. I bet you're proud of him."

Puzzled, I asked "Why would I be proud of him?"

"You're not proud of your son?!" she asked.

My son?!!! I was fried to hear that! I didn't realize I was looking so old and decrepit. Here I was thinkin' we looked like two young guys out for a ride! This was the first time I realized that the years were catching up with the old body, but not the mind! I will not grow old truly until I grow up!

We continued into this challenging mountain road, hitting the twisties, coming up on steep drop offs and just enjoying the rugged country, Mexico on the left, Texas on the right. Tight turns, steep grades and best of all, when we reached Presidio, we knew we could turn around and do it all over again on the way back!

We spent a couple of days exploring the park on foot and on the bikes. We hiked up to the Window, a sheer 2,000 foot cliff. We saw wild pigs, deer, sheep and snakes. We even checked out the hot springs which was the only place to practice a little personal hygiene. Santa Elena Canyon is spectacular although someone has to stay with the bikes because of bandits. We saw this feature one at a time.

On the last evening we returned to camp to find a note pinned on the tents that said, "you guys owe us for three nights' camping fees. Please pay us in the morning. We open at 6:00 a.m. In the excitement of the ridin', we'd forgotten to register and pay the $5.00 per person per night fee. Well, only thing to do was to do the right thing.

Early next morning we packed up and went to camp headquarters to pay up. We waited about 15 minutes. Nobody showed up to accept our money. Since time was now pressing us, we reluctantly stuffed the money under the door and rode away hoping the folks would know it was from us.

As we rode away, R.T. hollered at me on the CB and said, "Well, Bud, we got a long way to go to make it to Abilene by nightfall.

As we headed northeast, we reviewed the grim prospect in front of us. We had about 1100 miles to go and only two days to get it done. Well, we were in a state that allowed higher speeds before resorting to writing speeding tickets.

If we rode tank to tank (full to empty) and minimized rest stops, we could make Abilene by sundown, stay in the $22.00 Motel 6 and get an early start for the last 550 miles next day. All went well till we got near Big Lake. R.T. radioed that he had no throttle and couldn't make the bike accelerate. I turned around and went back for him. Sure enough, the throttle cable had snapped and retracted back into the cruise control mechanism. So much for new bikes being trouble free.

I reached up under the carbs, twisted the idle adjustment and said "R.T., get on, put your bike in gear, start your engine, let out the clutch immediately and take off. I'll catch you at the Dairy Queen in Big Lake." All Texas towns have Dairy Queens. It's a law or something.

It was fairly easy to catch up with R.T. He was only running about 40 mph on level ground and, although we were still in the mountains, we were nearing the desert which is very flat.

We ate at the Dairy Queen while the engine cooled. As we took off the engine cover we could see that there was no way to fix this mess. Neither could we rig anything up to get us by. By this time I figured we were about 100 miles from San Angelo. There was a Yamaha dealer there if we could make it before they closed. R.T. was game but pointed out that at 40 mph we weren't going to make it in time. No problem, Gringo! We'll twist up the idle adjustment and raise the average speed.

R.T. was off like a shot! I figured I could catch him in a few miles. As I rode on as fast as I felt I could go and not attract the attention of a law officer, I started calling for him on the CB. Man, he was plumb out of range. It took me 20 miles to run him down! Downhill he was running 90 to 95 mph and uphill he only slowed to about 80. Said he was doin' ok, makin' good time. He wanted to keep goin'. The only controls he had were a throttle and a horn! And if the road that led to home was as level as West Texas, we’d have made it easy. But...

We got into San Angelo after the bike shop had closed. Too bad. Well, no choice now but to go on to Abilene and that meant entering the west edge of the Texas Hill Country! As we blazed on, R.T. decided he could make it all the way home running this way. Ah, but the best laid plans of mice and men...about that time we encountered some hills.

These were real hills, not little rises or dips in the road. R.T.’s speed dropped to 30 mph goin' up some of these. No way were we going to make it 600 plus miles like this. By the time we made Abilene it was getting cold again. Remember this was still early in March.

We checked in the luxurious Motel 6 in the upscale part of town and showered for the first time in five days. Sure was great to feel clean again.

R.T. called his wife and told her the news, advising her that he planned to go to the Yamaha dealer next morning and get fixed up for the trip home. No way. She told him that a major winter storm was forecast for Topeka late the next day. She'd have to get a trailer and come get him and the bike.

So, that's the way we left it. I rode out in 26 degrees next mornin' while R.T. slept in. I was faced with a long cold trip racing against a storm while he rode home in a heated pickup truck with country music, coffee and company. Sometimes there's no justice in the world, but that’s the price you pay for a Texas fix!

Hey! I got pictures!